#literally how fucking inconsiderate can you be!!!!!!!!!!

[wyn-n-tonic]

Somebody parked in the accessibility bay again so since I'm moving out, I wrote them a note in big letters that said "PARKING HERE IS ILLEGAL AND BLOCKS ACCESSIBILITY FOR YOUR DISABLED NEIGHBORS!!!" with a tiny little 'fuck you, dude.' at the end.

[mosspapi]

Begging people to stop fucking posting EXESSIVELY gory photos without a readmore or tw or spoiler or anything IN THE WRONG FUCKING TAGS. Like. What the actual fuck is wrong with you people.

[sunsetdesire]

updated my pinned post because I need it to be abundantly clear that any post I make that uses daddy or mommy is in title ONLY. i do not encourage or practice fauxcest. i'd prefer you kept it away from me entirely, you're not cute.

[infizero]

thinking about dl!scar makes me sad for many reasons but one of the worst is thinking about him knowing far too well that grian is unhappy with him and just having to live with that

[screeching-bunny]

Need more of our yan slasher,he's so pookie,i wanna bite his cheeks (in a affectionate way) and cuddle with him until the end of times,he's such a cutie 😭💗

Yandere! Slasher Pt.2

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’

Pt. 1

After reading the message sent by Yandere! Slasher, everyone subconsciously looked at you. Never in your life did you want to go home more badly than you did right now. Why did you even decide to go to a party in the first place? You don’t even like people in general! You were definitely never going out to socialize with others after this. If only there were more booze around here you really didn’t want to handle this situation semi sober.

You: “... What are you all looking at me for, they gave out a very vague description of someone. This could literally be anyone in this room with similar features to me.”

The next minute the phone screen immediately lights up with a message.

Yandere! Slasher: “I’m talking about you.”

You: “...”

After a few more seconds of silence, you finally managed to suppress the fear and uneasiness in your heart. You took the phone from the person beside you and carefully looked back at the messages that were sent by Yandere! Slasher. Finally looking down at the text box you begin to slowly type a message.

You: “Sorry, I don’t like guys with dark hair.”

Yandere! Slasher: “I can always dye it.”

You: “I don’t like your face.”

Yandere! Slasher: “There’s always plastic surgery”

You: “How do I know that you're rich? What if you’re lying and actually not broke.”

Yandere! Slasher: “I’ll buy you whatever you want right now. I can even send you my credit card information if you decide to be with me.

Damn you were broke but not broke enough to allow yourself to be with some killer. If it weren’t for your morals you would have probably folded by now.

Yandere! Slasher: “Well it’s not like you have a choice anyways. I plan on making you my spouse either way. You can either come with me willingly or I could take you by force…. Well looks like you’re taking too long. I'll decide for you.”

With that text message sent, you immediately began to feel queasy. You were struggling to keep your eyes wide open and your body was beginning to become very sluggish. Slowly but surely your senses were starting to stop and the last thing that you were able to hear were the sound of your peers screaming for help. With one last attempt to get out of your situation, you try to slowly crawl away. Only for your attempts to be interrupted when someone gently picks you up. “You’re not going anywhere cutie.” and with that you were now fully unconscious.

—

The next morning you woke up with the world’s worst hangover in the world. Never in your life did you feel this fucked up and and groggy all at once. You begin to raise up your body but soon realize that your body was tightly restricted by some rope and you were wrapped in the arms of some guy. The immediate thought in your head was that this was, last night was either the kinkiest night of your life or some random weirdo had ended up kidnapping you. Due to your movements the man next to you begins to wake up and looks over to you with a smile on his face.

“Cutie! I’m so glad you’re awake. We have so many things that we need to discuss right now! I’ve been thinking about the names of our future kids. Do you have any preferences? I don’t really mind what we name them but I want a lot of kids! Wait! I’m being so inconsiderate right now. I never even asked you if you wanted kids. If you don’t like them we can adopt as many pets as we physically can and we–”

As he was rambling it finally hit you. He was the fucking weirdo from the night before. You wanted to fucking die. Never in a million years did you think that you’d have to deal with a serial killer and an extrovert at that. Maybe if you pretended to be deaf he would stop talking to you. You begin to look at him and begin to make gestures with your head and facial expressions to signify that you were deaf. Yandere! Slasher looks at you for a few minutes before laughing.

“Sweetie, that's not going to work. I’ve been stalking you for the last couple of years. I know that you’re not deaf. Besides I’ve looked at your medical, you're perfectly healthy right now. Which reminds me, my precious little darling must be starving right now. It’s my job as your future husband to take care of you. Now wait right here for me.”

With that he leaves you entrapped alone in the room. Although your eyes were still a little blurry you were still able to make out the contents of the room. Scanning the room, your eyes fell upon a glint of metal under a desk —a discarded tool left by neglect or chance. Adrenaline surged as you inched closer, your heart racing in synchrony with your movements. With trembling fingers, you grasped the tool, the cold touch sending a shiver down your spine.

Summoning every ounce of determination, you started sawing at the ropes, each movement a blend of agony and hope. The metallic smell of blood filled your nose as the sharp edges of the tool cut into your skin. With each passing second, the knots loosened, freedom within tantalizing reach. With one last rough movement you were able to be free of your binds. As you made your way towards the window. A creak soon shatters the silence and the door swings open. Revealing your kidnapper's looming silhouette.

“Look at you all covered in blood because I left the room. Did you really think I would leave the room without any monitors watching you? I was hoping that you wouldn't try to escape but I guess I’ll have to be training you from now on cutie. Guess I’ll have to punish you right now. Do me a favor and lay down won’t you?”

[llatimeria]

I feel so resolved right now bc I've been getting a little frustrated with the Instagram reels I've been seeing that's mostly het women complaining about how their husbands don't share the mental load of housework - which is absolutely justified, ofc. everyone needs to partake in taking care of the home as close to equally as is reasonable.

the thing is this mostly takes the form of people making fun of how their husbands say things like "Yeah sure I'll share the load :) Just make me a list!:) just tell me what to do! :)" when that's kind of defeating the purpose -- if your partner's making lists of chores for you, you're still basically offloading a ton of mental effort onto them, which doesn't actually help the problem.

however I know from experience that I am that husband lol. and I'm sure a lot of these men are just kind of inconsiderate, but from my perspective as a disabled neurodivergent person, I reflexively try to offload things like Making Lists or Asking To Be Told What To Do onto my (overstressed, often panicking) partner because I'm scared that if I make decisions about what I need to do, I'll focus on something my partner didn't even have on their radar and waste all my energy "fixing" something which they didn't consider broken, leaving me with nothing to help solve the problems they actually care about.

I'm not trying to be a dick or deliberately being lazy, I just need to know what's bothering them the most so I can start there instead of starting on a random side quest that doesn't matter to either of us. considering how many of these people I've run into are in nd4nd relationships, I'm pretty sure I can't be the only "inconsiderate husband" out there who's having this feeling, and it's a little frustrating to see it being completely attributed to a moral failing and not, like, a possible symptom of their partner's own mental health issues. (like we definitely can't pretend like misogyny never plays a part in the Just Make Me A List type of behavior, but I know relatively certainly that is not where it's originating from in my own personal relationship, and I'm not that unique)

just when I was about to just make a kind of grumpy post about this problem and offer absolutely no solutions, I fuckin run into a reel where someone actually tells people how to bridge the gap between offloading mental effort and actually knowing what your partner wants you to do- literally just. offer a couple of observations to them instead of hoping they'll do everything for you. ie - instead of "just tell me what to do!!", say "I see the dishes have to be done and the trash has to be taken out, so I was gonna do the dishes then take out the trash, unless there was something else that needs my focus first". this tells your partner that you are taking on some of the mental burden, but still offers them the opportunity to point you in the right direction if you're WAY off.

it just makes so much fucking sense and I never would've thought of doing that on my own. genuinely an extremely useful video to just algorithmically be provided to me. it's actionable advice instead of just telling people "share the loaaaddd" without providing the scaffolding someone needs to do that when theyre unused to it (whether that be due to neurodivergency or growing up as a guy in a misogynistic society).

and its just like. God damn it. this is bullshit. I can't believe the stupid camera app is helping me in real ways. maybe the mental health gurus and internet therapists have a goddamn point sometimes. fucking hell

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 26 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: No matter what Bradley did, you seemed frustrated with him. You needed a new car, but you needed to start communicating with him even more. He was scrambling to try to fix everything, but it was hard when you could barely stay awake for a conversation.

Warnings: Swearing, drinking, pregnancy topics, angst

Length: 5900 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

When nearly a week had gone by, and you still wouldn't focus on picking out a new car for yourself, Bradley was starting to get frustrated. Sharing the Bronco with you wasn't a big deal. You respected it and treated it well, but he had to play nice when you wanted to use it to go to brunch on Sunday with Cam and Maria at the same time he wanted to play golf.

"Can't Jake pick you up?" you asked him with an annoyed sigh. "I'll text him and ask if he can come get you."

"Why can't Cam or Maria pick you up?" he asked, feeling kind of fucking fed up with you at the moment. 

"Fine," you replied, an eerily calm expression taking over your face. "I'll have one of them pick me up for brunch in the morning. Don't worry about it."

You turned on your heel and walked back to the bedroom leaving Bradley raking his fingers through his hair. He had finally started to feel normal again after having your parents at the house for a few days. It's not like they were even loud or inconsiderate, but he just struggled a bit with it anyway. He wasn't used to closing the bedroom door knowing Tramp liked to wander around the house at all hours of the day and night. He liked to take a piss with the bathroom door open, and he liked to randomly reach up under your shirt when you were in the kitchen if you welcomed it. And he just couldn't do any of that with other people in the house, even though it was family. 

"Fuck," he mumbled. It wasn't even a big deal for you to take the Bronco to brunch. Jake or Javy could easily get him on their way to the golf course, and now he needed to go apologize to you. But the bedroom door was closed when he got there, and he immediately felt like he needed to be touching you, because you were literally the only person who could be in his personal space all day long and not usually annoy him in the slightest. 

When he turned the knob, he was relieved to find it wasn't locked. "Baby Girl?" he called out cautiously, and then he found you in the bathroom. "Shit," he whispered, watching you wipe your eyes before turning toward the mirror, but there was no way to hide from him in here. "I'm sorry."

"Could you just leave me alone?" you asked without looking at him.

The words caused him physical pain, because that was the last thing he wanted right now. He'd gotten used to how much better everything was recently, and he was absolutely unwilling to stop communicating with you. "Can we talk about it? About a car? We could buy one tomorrow if you pick one out."

You turned and snapped at him. "Maybe next time just don't fuck up the one I already have!"

He had apologized to you countless times. He'd given your shit car a eulogy. He had offered to buy you any car you found that you wanted, but now he was just as mad as you were. "I just wanted to tell you that you can use the Bronco tomorrow."

"How generous," you replied sarcastically. "But I already told you I'll get a ride from Cam or Maria. Now would you please leave me alone?"

Bradley nodded and retreated back to the living room couch with Tramp, because he didn't know what else to do. He stretched out and decided to look at cars until you resurfaced to make dinner. There were two huge dealerships in San Diego that had the current model year of your old car, and they both had them stocked in several colors with different options available. You could get a new red one with a sunroof and gray interior just like you had before. He'd upgrade the stereo package to make riding in it less painful for him, but he'd buy it right now if you said it's what you wanted. 

As he thought back to the way you dragged your feet about wedding planning, he muttered a string of obscenities. At this rate, he'd be sharing the Bronco with you for a long time. He bookmarked a bunch of new cars, and then he searched all over the country to see if anyone was selling an exact replica of the one he totaled. A few hours later, it occurred to him that you never came back out of the bedroom. He scooped up Tramp where he'd fallen asleep on his chest and carried him back down the hallway. 

You were sound asleep in bed, curled up on your side, breathing softly. Bradley checked the time again. It was only 7:15, but maybe you just needed to rest. He tucked the covers up around your shoulders and kissed your forehead before venturing back out to the kitchen to make himself a sandwich before working out.

------------------------

By the middle of the week, you were aggressively annoyed by everything, but mostly Bradley's voice. On Sunday, Cam picked you up for brunch even though Bradley told you a million times you could use the Bronco. You didn't even want to use the Bronco. He could use it all day long. And then you went back to Cam's place and lounged on his couch until you were starting to get hungry for dinner. If Bradley wondered why you were out for a six hour brunch, he didn't ask. 

But when he eventually called your phone, you asked Cam to drive you home. "Your husband is like a twelve out of ten," he murmured as he drove you. "Don't be mean to him." Then you climbed out of his car onto your driveway and rolled your eyes, because after that he was getting on your nerves, too.

So on Monday and Tuesday, you just avoided Bradley as much as you could at work after driving in with him, but on Wednesday, as he pulled into the parking garage, he cleared his throat. "Hard Deck tonight?"

"You can go," you replied as you unbuckled your seatbelt. "You can take the Bronco, and I'll just stay home." You bit your lip immediately as you said the words, because you felt like crying. You couldn't understand what was wrong with you as tears burned your eyes. The last thing you wanted to do was skip a fun night out. You also didn't know why you couldn't commit to a car. Everything felt like too much the last few days, and you wanted to scream.

"Can we talk about this?" Bradley asked, his voice pleading with you, but you didn't even know what to say. 

"Later," you told him before heading for the building, but he was right behind you, undeterred.

"Don't give me that later bullshit. We've been talking and communicating a lot better, and I absolutely refuse to stop doing either of those things!"

You spun around so fast, he almost collided with you. "I have a meeting with Bickel, okay? About Annapolis. And it starts in twenty minutes. And I'm tired. And I miss my car. And I need to go."

After that, you weren't sure if he followed you or not, because you didn't turn around to check. When you got to your office and opened your computer, you saw the calendar reminder that made more tears cloud your vision. You cradled your forehead in your hand. Saturday was Carole Bradshaw's birthday. 

The fact that you forgot it was coming up was worrying, because you couldn't let work take over your life again like it had in the past. You'd been mentally planning to make another fancy dinner to celebrate her day, the way you had for both of Bradley's parents' birthdays last year. Filet mignon and crab cakes and brownies. 

Fuck. You wanted to sit alone in your office and cry all morning, but now you had four minutes until you had to sit down with your boss. You pulled yourself together the best you could and made your way to talk to Bickel. Cat was there too, and you could feel her intense gaze on you as if she was physically touching you. You knew she could tell something was on your mind, but you sat as calmly as you could and looked through the folder of information that was given to you. 

Bickel folded his hands on his desk and said, "I'm letting the two of you decide how you'd like to present our work in Annapolis. I'm trying to finalize some dates for us, but it's looking like the first week of August. This would add two million dollars to our pending budget for next year, which would give us the opportunity to explore an even more advanced comms system. And it would be a great way for me to push for your promotion, Lieutenant Coleman."

"Yes, Sir," Cat replied immediately. When you were both dismissed, she took you by the arm out in the hallway and whispered, "Please, I need you to focus on this for me. Okay? Why do you look like you're on the verge of tears?"

"I'm having a bad week," you whispered, still unsure why you felt like this. Your fingers were tingling, and you were so anxious, you were about to walk yourself to see Dr. Genevieve. But you hadn't eaten breakfast, and it was almost lunchtime now after Bickel kept you so long. "I need lunch," you told Cat, and she sighed and walked down to the cafeteria with you.

Part of you wanted to see Bradley, but part of you did not. And something about the idea of a burrito bowl was turning your stomach just looking at it. You picked out a sandwich and some soup and found a spot at a table that was completely empty except for Bob. 

"Hi," you said softly, and he looked up from his notebook with a smile as you slid into the seat across from him. 

"Hi," he replied in his sweet voice that immediately made you feel calmer. "I actually was hoping to see you to thank you again. Maria has been really accommodating about me moving in, and this way I don't have to commute into the city every day."

You waved him off as you tried a spoonful of the flavorless soup. "I'm just happy it worked out. For both of you. I didn't want Maria to have some creep move in since she couldn't find anyone else. And obviously you're just lovely, Bob."

He visibly bristled a bit. "No, she shouldn't have to deal with a creepy roommate."

Then Jake dropped down in the seat next to yours and turned to smile as Cat sat on his other side. "Angel. What the hell are you doing to Rooster now?"

"What do you mean?" you asked, looking around, but your husband and Nat were still in line for food. 

"He's fucking miserable today. Cranky as hell. And I know for a fact nothing can set that man off the way you can. It's honestly pretty funny, but he did snap at me three times. It's like dealing with Hondo all over again."

"Sorry," you heard Cat mutter as she ate her lunch.

You gripped your spoon in your hand and took a deep breath, but all you could say was, "I don't know." You truly didn't know what was going on. Your brain was in a constant fog, and you felt so antsy. 

Bradley sat across the table from you, eyeing you carefully from his spot next to Bob. You tried to give him a reassuring smile, but you didn't know if it came across that way when he just looked sadder. 

"Who's coming to the bar tonight?" Nat asked loudly.

After Jake and Cat agreed to go, you quietly said, "Not me. I have to catch up on some things I was supposed to read, but I'll drop Bradley off for the night."

Your husband shook his head and opened his mouth to reply, but Nat was already squeezing his shoulder. "Sounds good," she said, and after that, he sat quietly. 

----------------------------

Bradley flew all afternoon, and it was bad. Just really, very bad. He was distracted, and the fact that Javy had to keep repeating himself was about to earn Bradley a lecture from Maverick if he didn't pull it together. But you were just making him so sad, and he had no idea why you were currently barely able to look at him without crying or yelling. 

He hadn't even done anything. Had he? Yeah, he'd completely destroyed your beloved car, but the visit with your parents had gone pretty well. He hadn't missed any important dates of anniversaries. He'd been keeping up with his chores at home. 

You'd been running a bit hot and cold in the bedroom. He'd never push you for more than you wanted to do, but then perhaps he hadn't been good for you recently? The mere thought had him squirming and sweating in his cockpit as he followed Javy into a dive. Shit. Could that be it? He always got you off. Except that he knew he hadn't in the family bathroom at the Padres game, but you and he had been in a rush. And that night last week when you started yawning while you rode him, he distinctly remembered you saying it didn't matter if you came since you were so tired.

Shit. Things had been going great, he didn't realize what he'd been doing, and now he had to figure out how to fix it when you seemed so disinterested in talking to him. As he brought his jet back down to the tarmac he tried to come up with a plan, but he felt helpless. These were the times he felt like having a mother of his own would come in handy, because he couldn't exactly take this to your mom. 

"Fuck." He wrenched his helmet off and ran his fingers through his hair. You were sending him off to the bar alone tonight to get him out of your space, he could tell. So maybe the best thing he could do right now was just follow your lead. 

After he showered and headed for the parking garage, he found you leaning against the side of the Bronco waiting for him. "Hi, Sweetheart," he said, leaning down to kiss you softly.

Your quiet response of, "Hi, Roo," made him feel a lot better, and you let him buckle you in, which was great. But then you said, "I'll just drop you off at the bar later and come back for you. I have some things I want to get done."

He nodded. "Sure. Whatever you want." 

Back at home, he was able to coax you onto his lap for dinner at the dining room table, and even though it was a quiet affair, he didn't mind. He just rubbed his hand up and down your back, and eventually you sank back against him even though you'd only had a few bites of food. You were practically asleep on him as he finished eating, but you jolted up when his phone vibrated against your hip.

"It's probably just Nat," he whispered, and you nodded as you checked the time. 

"I'll drop you off whenever you're ready, and I'll come back for you around ten?"

He cupped your perfect cheek in one hand and asked, "Are you sure you don't want to come? I can help you get caught up with work tomorrow or this weekend. I'm a pretty good helper."

You cracked the tiniest smile as you said, "I'm just not in the mood. You go and drink and have fun, and I'll come back for you."

He kissed your cheek. "I'll be waiting, ready to come home with you whenever you get there."

--------------------------

When Bradley climbed out of the Bronco, you watched him head inside the bar. He was wearing his white and yellow floral print shirt, part of the matching set that he'd bought for the two of you, and he looked so sexy, you were thrumming with need. You were all over the place. A few days ago, the mere sight of him had you ready to climb out the window, and now you were on the verge of chasing him down to fuck you.

"Get a grip. My god," you moaned as you pulled back onto the road. At least now you could go to the store and purchase everything you'd need to make Carole's birthday dinner in peace. 

The store was quiet, which was great, because you didn't currently know if something was about to set you off. You grabbed a cart, and the cool metal against your hands felt nice. A smile found its way to your face as you listened to Everywhere by Fleetwood Mac playing throughout the store and picked out some beautiful looking steaks. Then you found everything for the crab cakes and the brownies, and you got a bottle of expensive champagne. 

You were already feeling better now, almost excited to celebrate the mother-in-law that you'd never had the privilege of meeting. She deserved a special day and a fancy dinner, because even though you didn't know her personally, you were absolutely certain Carole Bradshaw was incredible. The sparkle of your engagement ring caught your eye, and you stood in front of the wine and champagne and sobbed quietly until you felt like you could continue shopping. 

It had to be the combination of work and her birthday and your car that was setting you off. No matter how bad it made you feel, you'd pick out a new car this weekend. You knew there was enough in your savings account for a down payment, so you just had to force yourself to bite the bullet. You'd do it for Bradley and for yourself. 

While you unpacked the groceries, you made a sandwich, finally hungry again after you'd barely been able to eat dinner. But that started to make you too full after just half of it. "Don't tell Daddy," you whispered before feeding it to Tramp. 

Then you sat at the island and read through the folder from Bickel. You had weeks of research and planning ahead of you, but it would be worth it for the grant money. Cat was a solid gold choice as a partner for this, especially since she was motivated by that promotion she wanted. You were excited, but realistically so. You needed to make sure you didn't overdo things this time around. You could rely on Cat as much as yourself, and you knew that now.

When you checked the time on your phone, it was already 10:30. You texted Bradley and let him know you'd be there soon. When you started the Bronco, you got a text back.

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw <3 <3 <3: Can't wait for you to take me home.

You smiled and sang on your way there, already feeling better about having everything for Carole's birthday dinner ready to go. You parked the Bronco and headed inside, twirling Bradley's keyring on your fingers. As soon as you pushed the door open, the wave of noise hit you, and you made a beeline for the pool table. Penny's summer drink specials must have been on point, because the place was packed.

Just when you were trying to squeeze between two massive guys, you caught sight of Bradley just in time to see a woman walk up behind him and tap him on the shoulder. Maybe he thought it was you at first, because he spun to face her with a smile on his face. You got jostled around a little bit as your steps faltered and came to a stop. Bradley was conversing a bit with her now, although his smile was gone, and you watched as she reached up with her perfectly manicured nails and dragged them along his paper airplane tattoo on his bicep.

"Oh, hell no," you gasped, registering that Bradley looked surprised, and not in a good way. But you were frozen to the spot now as disgust, embarrassment and jealousy washed over you. It wasn't like he wasn't wearing his wedding band. He was. How was that not enough? You couldn't decide if you wanted to run away or rip her head off.

Bradley immediately started to back away from her, shaking his head as he went, and then his gaze connected with yours. He mouthed your name, and you could see the concern on his face as you swallowed hard. Instead of running away, you stood there like an idiot when he came rushing in your direction.

"Sweetheart," he said, reaching for your hand, his eyes on yours. 

"Who's your friend?" you asked. Your voice sounded like it belonged to someone else while your throat burned. 

You let him wrap one big hand around your back and pull you closer, holding you there. "No idea. Never saw her before thirty seconds ago."

"I didn't like her touching you."

His eyebrow quirked up as his hand dipped a little lower. "Neither did I. Especially since I got the tattoo for you, Baby Girl."

You had your arms around his neck instantly, the other woman forgotten as you kissed your husband. He tasted like your favorite beer, and you whimpered. But your body felt somehow both too tender and too needy pressed up against him as you said, "It's for me. Mine. Let's go home."

-------------------------

Bradley let you drive since he'd had a fair amount to drink. That fucking woman just about ruined his night by asking him what he was drinking and then touching his arm, feigning interest in his unique tattoo. The past week had already felt like touch and go with you, and he was unwilling to make it worse. He still wasn't quite sure how to get things back to where they had been just a short time ago. 

When you parked in the driveway in the spot where you used to park your car, he almost winced. But you crawled over to his lap and started to unbutton his shirt. "Take me to bed," you told him, rubbing yourself on him through his jeans. 

He grunted in response, carrying you up to the porch and wrestling with his key in the lock as you kissed his neck. Clothing was discarded along the way, and when he got you in the bedroom with the soft lamplight illuminating your skin, he moaned. 

"Jesus Christ, you're a dream."

Truly, your tits had never looked better, and somehow the aroused looking little scowl you were shooting his way was really working him up as you shimmied your jeans down your legs. He was hard when you finally pushed him onto the bed and climbed on top. 

"I love you," he promised as your lips met his, and you sank down around his length. Warm and wet and perfect. Holy shit, you felt incredible as you rolled your hips slowly, his hands settling at your waist. You were velvety smooth everywhere. The only thing he wanted. 

He held your hips in his hands and thrust up into you as his lips met your nipple. You moaned as he licked you, but as soon as he sucked hard, pulling you between his lips, you gasped. So he did it again and again, but your hips stilled and your hands left his shoulders and reached for his cheeks.

"It hurts," you gasped, pushing his face away from your chest. "Stop."

He let his head settle back on the pillow. "Sorry." Tentatively, he brought his hand up to your left breast and gave you a nice squeeze, but you pulled away further. Then you were kneeling next to him with your arms crossed over your chest. "Sorry," he repeated. "But I always touch you that way?"

You burst into tears and said, "It just hurts."

And that was the last thing you said to him for the night as you crawled under the covers. As soon as Bradley got his erection under control by pacing around the bathroom, he walked back to the bed to find you sound asleep.

On Thursday and Friday, you didn't even acknowledge it. When he asked if it was okay if he touched you on Thursday morning, you went willingly into his arms as the toaster popped out your breakfast. And on Friday morning, you let him snuggle with you a little bit before you got out of bed, so at least he was fairly convinced you weren't too mad at him. But he just knew he hadn't been doing enough for you in bed which really pissed him off. 

He was older than everyone else around him seemingly all the time, and now he was feeling insecure about it again. If he could just manage to get you to have a real conversation with him, then he'd try to fix this. But you were busy with work, something else that had a red flag shooting up in the back of his mind. No, he was not going to fuck this all up yet again. You and he had something special, and he was going to demand a conversation. 

--------------------------

You poked at your lunch on Friday as Jake and Bradley argued next to you in the cafeteria. You were barely able to pay attention to them, because you were so tired, and you had another meeting with Bickel in an hour. As far as you could tell, you were getting the flu, which seemed weird for July, but nothing else made sense. 

No matter how much you slept, you were exhausted. Your body was aching, and you were so damn moody. You'd practically accosted Bradley on Wednesday after you picked him up from the bar, but then you fell asleep as soon as you told him your breasts hurt. You felt embarrassed now as you looked at him next to you, because after all of that, you didn't even let him finish that night. 

As you adjusted your shirt, you could have screamed at how tender your nipples were. At least it was Friday. You could catch up on reading for your presentation research, and then you could sleep. 

"Come on, Rooster," Jake complained. "You have to come tomorrow. I'll leave the hard seltzers at home, and Javy and I will behave."

Bradley turned to look at you with big, brown eyes before he told Jake, "No. No golf tomorrow. I have some things I need to take care of." Then he turned back toward you and softly said, "We're talking tomorrow. About a bunch of stuff. Until we are sorted out."

Now you felt guilty as Jake shot you a look. "We can talk tomorrow afternoon, Roo. Go play golf."

"Yeah, Bradshaw," Jake piped up. "Angel said you can do shit with her in the afternoon. So you'll come with Bob, Javy and I? You know Reuben sucks at golf. He's even worse than you."

"Go," you told Bradley, kissing the edge of his mustache before you stood. "Yes, Jake, he will be golfing tomorrow. I plan on sleeping in, and the quiet house will be nice."

Bradley reached for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours as he looked up at you. "I love you."

You nodded. "I love you, too. I need to go get ready for a meeting." His eyes were on your body as you walked away, but you needed to focus on work right now. 

It was all you could do to go back to Bickel's office with Cat and not fall asleep in his soft leather chair. Your boss's calm voice and the warm room were almost too much for your senses. You were fighting with yourself to keep your eyes open. Fighting with everything you had to stay engaged. An hour went by and then two, and he was still talking, and so was Cat, and they kept asking you for input. You were clinging to your extensive knowledge on the subject matter and hoping for the best when Bickel's desk phone rang, and he finally dismissed you. 

"This is so exciting," Cat gushed out in the cooler hallway. "I was telling Jake last night that you and I are going to have the best presentation at the Naval Academy next month, and do you know what he said?"

"Hmm?" you hummed as you walked to the lab.

"He offered to watch Jeremiah!"

"Oh." You hadn't even really considered how hard it would be for Cat to go to Maryland with you, but this was probably a big deal. Jeremiah wasn't even two yet. "Wow. Look at Jake being an exceptional boyfriend. Good thing I pushed the two of you to actually communicate with each other."

Cat laughed and hugged you before entering the lab, but you cringed. Communication. You'd talk to Bradley tomorrow afternoon. You'd pick a car tomorrow afternoon. But when you got home today, you were going to take your temperature and then get in bed. 

You had to wait by the Bronco for such a long time, you contemplated texting Bradley to see what the holdup was. It was late, you were actually starving, and you wanted to go home. You shifted your bag from one shoulder to the other, beyond annoyed that there was only one key to this thing; you couldn't even sit inside. You glared at the pretty blue paint, really missing your ugly red car with your whole heart when you heard boots pounding the pavement behind you.

"I'm so sorry, Baby Girl," Bradley gasped. He must have run the whole way here from the tarmac since he was still in his flight suit. "We ran over. I should have left the keys with you this morning. I"m sorry."

You nodded as he helped you in the passenger side door and buckled you in. "Okay."

He pulled out of the parking garage, glancing at you every few seconds. "All you're going to say is okay?"

You yawned wishing you could get undressed. "What do you want me to say, Bradley?"

He was quiet for a few blocks, but when he turned down your street, he let loose. "I want you to say something more than okay. I want you to fucking talk to me, alright? I feel like everything I'm doing right now is making you mad at me, and I hate that. I fucking hate it." He hit the brakes a little hard in the driveway, and now you were alert as you started crying. 

"Fuck!" Bradley growled, hands gripping the steering wheel. "I'm sorry." He looked so upset right now, you didn't even know what to do as tears streamed down your cheeks. Then he was running across the driveway and helping you out of the Bronco and into the house, but the tears kept coming. And now your head was throbbing and you felt so sick. 

"I just want to go to bed," you gasped. "Please," you begged as he kissed your forehead over and over again while Tramp jumped around. 

"Of course," Bradley whispered, his lips meeting your face again before he knelt in front of you. He kissed your thighs through your khaki pants and helped you out of your boots, looking up at your face which you were sure looked like a wreck. "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry I yelled." 

"It's okay," you managed as the room spun a little bit. "I just need to get in bed."

He carried you there, and it felt amazing to not have to walk. Then he set you on the bed and undressed you as he asked, "Do you want some water? A snack?"

You nodded and got under the covers, and said, "Yes, please," as you started to doze off. All you managed to do was eat a handful of trail mix and chug a glass of water before you passed out. 

When you eventually woke up, you felt a little better, but when you rolled over, the other half of the bed was empty and cold. It was eight in the morning according to your phone. You'd just slept for over twelve hours, and Bradley was out playing golf now. The cool fabric of his pillow on your face felt so nice, you rolled over all the way. You must have a fever and the flu. You felt too hot, and your breasts were aching. So was your abdomen. Your period was probably about to start. 

You frowned and looked at your phone again, opening the calendar app. It was Carole's birthday, but it was apparently also five weeks since you'd had your period. "Oh my god." You practically fell out of the bed, your legs tangling up in the sheets as you tried to get to your feet. 

"Oh shit," you gasped, running for the bathroom. You didn't know what to do first, but your stomach won as you lunged for the toilet and threw up everything in your stomach. "Gross," you groaned as you flushed the toilet, but as soon as you tried to stand, more came up. Your heart was thudding in your chest as you forced yourself to be patient and let your stomach empty itself.

When you finally could, you got to your feet again, removing your glasses to rinse your mouth out and splash water on your face. Then you dried yourself and slid them back on. You eyed the linen closet next to the door in the mirror before turning around slowly. As you strode across the tile floor, Tramp came in to investigate, but you ignored him as you closed the distance to where you thought you might have one last pregnancy test hidden away.

You opened the narrow door and knelt down, and then you started throwing everything from the bottom shelves over your shoulders, frantically searching. You saw the box, and you tore it open. You already knew what to do, because you'd done it so many times before, but your hands were shaking as you removed the test and looked at it on your palm in the foil wrapper. 

Tramp whimpered at you as you got to your feet again and made it to the toilet, this time pulling your underwear down as you went. When the wrapper fell away, you took the test, hands shaking as you set it on the edge of the sink vanity when you were done. Then you wiped as you started to panic. Three minutes. You needed to wait for three minutes. 

Your phone was simply too far away as you started counting out loud, your voice echoing around your bathroom. It wasn't ready yet. You climbed into the empty bathtub, sitting and wrapping your arms around your knees. And you counted. 

You closed your eyes, and you counted. You looked at Tramp, and you counted. You pressed your forehead to your knees, and you counted all the way until you reached one hundred and eighty. 

"Three minutes," you whispered, your heart beating so hard, it was making you feel like you might need to throw up again. You climbed out of the tub onto unsteady legs and held your breath as you walked to the vanity. Very carefully, like it was the most precious thing you'd ever touched, you picked up the test. You checked the result before promptly dropping it to the floor.

------------------------

Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 27

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

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[ohnoitstbskyen]

Assumption: You were considered "a pleasure to have in class."

Incorrect! I was a pain in the goddamn ass, and frequently got told to stop asking so many questions.

Like literally I had a teacher tell me other people in the class were uncomfortable speaking up because I made them feel insecure by always raising my hand and asking follow up questions and debating subjects.

Apparently people felt like I was showing off, flaunting my intellect, trying to dominate the class socially, being pretentious. Apparently people felt like I was arrogant and only speaking up to make them feel bad.

And like, I'm not gonna say there wasn't ego involved with it, and I'm not gonna say I wasn't way too much to deal with at times - undiagnosed ADHD and all that. I'm also not going to pretend like men aren't raised to believe that we have the right to speak over other people and get attention for our every idle thought. I can completely understand how I could be a fucking misery to deal with in a classroom.

Also, in addition to that, hahaha oops now I have rejection sensitivity dysphoria and lifelong difficulty being myself in social situations. Gee golly willikers, I wonder how that happened!

I literally just wanted to learn things. I was literally just doing exactly what I'd always been told you're supposed to do at school. Everyone else seemed to just want to look into their books and stay silent every time a teacher encouraged us to ask questions, nobody else ever asked questions, and I thought I was supposed to be curious and engaged.

Eventually settled for just reading the encyclopaedias in the school library during recess. The day I discovered Wikipedia was a day of joy and relief, let me tell you.

But yeah, no, outside of maybe one or two teachers who seemed to like my engagement, I was considered disruptive and inconsiderate and got a lot of "he would be a great student if he just applied himself more," by which they seemed to mean "shut up and hand in homework."

[fairuzfan]

i seriously don't even have the words to describe what it's felt like as a native person learning about "holocaust exceptionalism" or whatever for the first time during all of this

the first time i saw a tweet talking about how it wasn't appropriate to compare any other genocide (and specifically this person was talking about the native american genocide(s), along with several others i've seen since & most of the "historians" who go this route, too) to the holocaust because unlike in those cases, where there was a clear logical reason for the wholesale slaughter of millions of people, the holocaust was senseless! it was just killing innocent people for no reason, which is completely different from when they got rid of all those dumb indians standing in the way of Progress & wasting the precious resources the colonizers needed much more... i thought they were just some random dickhead saying intentionally terrible shit online for engagement

but then i just kept seeing people saying similar things, and eventually while reading up on palestinian history, i find out that this has apparently been a zionist (and in many cases non-zionist, which maybe feels even worse) talking point for decades now?

(and increasingly, over the last few weeks, i've seen it shift to this more broad claim that comparing any genocide to any other genocide is harmful, actually... which is such a dumb argument to try to pass off as genuine when, among other things, there's literally an entire field called "genocide studies" that it's honestly almost funny)

i can't think of anything in recent memory that's felt like such a brutal slap in the face as finding out the belief that the systematic murder of my people was a completely logical, understandable course of action--arguably a net positive, even, in the long run--is now and long has been this commonly held. i've felt sick since ever since. how do you say shit like that and not understand that you're implicitly rationalizing and, to some extent, justifying it? how do you not hear yourself?

forgive me, i know it must feel very eye-roll-worthy to have someone come yelling to you right now about how badly their people are treated by zionists, but every time i see someone parroting off an argument along these lines, i swear i can just feel my faith in humanity slip a little more lol

yeah, fuck off with this bullshit for sure

oh don't apologize, i totally understand why you would want to talk about this. thank you for sending this, and I'm so sorry that youre going through this. it really is an inconsiderate talking point at the very least.... i wish the best for you and yours in these times.

[thr0wnawayy]

A Waste of Air (Why Inasa Sucks as a Character)

Reasoning

Boring quirk (wasted potential, uncreative)

Wind powers are so underutilized and Inasa's is no different. It effectively amounts to 'what Hellflame does but worse'.

Whereas Enji at least has some (albeit very limited) control over the form of his fire and where it comes from his body, Inasa can only move wind around in a spiral and also use it to propell himself.

His existance only serves to be a hindrance and an obstacle both to the plot and to the characters

Literally only exists as an obstacle to Shouto, backtracking on Shoto's previous growth just so Bakugo (authors pet-cough) won't fail alone.

His introduction downplays Momo's accomplishments and skill. Taking her top spot in the Recommendation Exam by turning it into a technicality because he raged quit. (she isn't even in the flashback)

His stupid backstory.

His backstory is so fucking contrived that I almost don't want to even bother going into it.

Firstly, his reaction to Shoto's demeanor is so disproportionate that it's pathetic

Oh boo hoo, your idol was mean to you. Yeah that would work, with anyone but Shouto. It's veery similar to the Hitoshi problem. Where he bases his opinion about something/someone he knows nothing about.

Telling Shoto he's 'just like his father' is probably the worst thing you can tell him.

Secondly, He takes Shoto's reaction/rejection in the worst way possible. If what Enji had done or said had been more severe, then his reaction would be understandable as a trauma response.

However why don't we look at what Enji said:

Presumably he knocked Inasa out of the way, while an incredibly unprofessional and cruel thing to do and say (especially to a child who just wants an autograph). It does not justify his reaction towards Shoto after the entrance exam nor at the licensing exam.

It doesn't justify him throwing away his spot at UA like a child.

And it certainly doesn't justify Inasa antagonizing him in the middle of an exam!

It makes Isana come off as short sighted and inconsiderate, ironically the very same way he views Enji and (because he can't or won't differentiate the two) Shoto.

How I would Write Them

I'm not just going to sit here and moan about how lacking Hori's writing can be at times, no.

I'm going to do something about it.

Genderbend (or trans that gender)

This show is in desperate need of female characters getting the spotlight and being allowed to show their skills.

Change her backstory to emphasize Enji's sexism:

Basically she goes up to Enji after a villain arrest and excitedly tells him about how she's a fan and has been practicing very hard. She creates a decently sized tornado in her palm to show him (not much bigger than a canteen)

He then scoffs dismissively (almost snickering at her) and says something like: "Someone of your constitution would never make it to the top, stay out of the way girl and let the heroes handle it"

he glares at her before walking off with his back turned to her.

He then tosses her notebook back behind his back, burning it's corner in the process by his careless quirk use

(bonus points if the flame is snuffed via landing in a puddle, showing how her dreams were metaphorically "put out".)

Have Shoto's (unintentional) attitude remind her of Enji's insult (by dismissing her accomplishment of besting him [while still losing to Momo)

Make her resemble Rei (but not be related):

Adding another layer of connection and trauma for Shoto.

Have him seek her out instead and make her want nothing to do with him (at least at first, with the exam later forcing them to work together and gain a mutal understanding)

Upgrade her powers to something besides (Wind go wooosh).

This could be anything, personally I'd make it varied, like she's able to both mimic Air Walk and Air Cannon but can also fly around, create tornadoes and even create air pockets. Thus showing her growth and efforts.

I will say this again, Pro. Hero. Family, Make her a legacy kid. Show just how biased Hero Society can be towards those with Heroic ties.

Don't toss her after the arc is done, keep her appearances consistent, yet spaced out.

Have her appear after the Licensing Exam, highlight both 1A's growth by having her grow with them.

I would also merge the remedial course with the Licensing Exam as a sort of second portion that involves showing restraint and kindness, as well as problem solving and situation awareness in a domestic setting.

Showing that heroism is or should be more than just "punch harder, punch with feeling".

Lastly here's the design I came up with and a little information to boot.

(nothing fancy just a head and a 3rd quarter sketch, no Hero costume yet)

Isana Yaorashi, Kanji: 勇渚 (勇: brave, strong, resolute. 渚 ripple or wave (used here as a substitute for "wave" of air) also used to represent the "ripples" Enji's insult had on her life and the she impressions that she leaves on others)

Legacy Child, comes from a long line of heroes, though her parents were not about that life. Her grandfather is the one who recommended her for UA and later Shiketsu: Yoroi Musha.

Holds an intense grudge against Endeavor for his sexism and his careless/cruel tendencies. Isana wishes to show the world that "heat" isn't what makes a hero.

Personality: Very intense, a fighter to her core. Isana seldomly backs down from a challenge, however she's more than willing to push that aside to help someone in need.

Applied for both U.A and Shiketsu in advance, left due to Shoto's attitude being to remincent of an encounter she had with Endeavor's true face during her childhood.

Placed Second in the Recommendation Exam at U.A then dominated Shiketsu's Entrance Exam with a total of 100 points!.

Probably got into fights alot as a kid. Probably for good reason too.

[moonstruckme]

Hi my love. Can you do a quick little blurby with whoever you think will fit this. The request is the reader was literally forgotten by her coworkers. They were all going to go out after work but they forgot her and went out without her. Just a comfort fic because this literally happened to me and I want to curl up and cry

Hi my love, I'm so sorry that this happened to you but I really hope things have been sorted out and/or you're feeling better now. Thank you for requesting sweetheart <3

Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 957 words

Steve wonders if maybe he’s holding you too tight. He’s got one arm around your ribcage and the other curled over your shoulders so he can hold the nape of your neck, but he keeps having to squash bouts of his own indignant fury to focus on comforting you. 

Unfortunately, this is not something he can handle with a bat. 

“I’m sure they didn’t mean to,” he mumbles next to your head. Your cheek is pressed close to his, your arms hung loosely around his shoulders. You’d come home to find him on the couch and simply draped yourself over him, desperate for affection he was all too happy to give you, even if it’s a bit less fun and games when you’re upset. You’re not even really crying, just clinging to him as a slow, relentless stream of tears flows out of you. 

“I know.” You sound so dejected Steve feels like someone’s taken the bat to him, your voice croaky and tired. “I don’t think they were trying to be mean, they just…didn’t remember me.” 

“Being inconsiderate still makes them a bunch of douchebags,” he says, thumb stroking the baby hairs on your neck. 

Steve likes to think he was never that much of a douchebag, but witnesses would probably testify otherwise. Robin would gleefully skip to the front of the line. She’d actually referred to his past self as a douche-canoe once. Steve isn’t sure what exactly that means, but he’s guessing it didn’t make him a whole lot better than these guys. 

“You should come work with me and Robs,” he offers, only half joking. You normally love your job, but he hates seeing you like this enough to think that maybe that doesn’t matter so much. “The pay’s worse, but we’re way more fun to be around.” 

You sniffle, tightening your grip around his shoulders affectionately. “Thanks, Stevie. But it’s not that I don’t like them. They’re cool, usually.” Steve makes a reluctant grunting sound, though he knows this to be true. Prior to today’s incident, he’d actually been looking forward to meeting some of them. “I just wish I weren’t so forgettable.” 

It takes Steve a second to actually process what you’ve said, and then his heart sputters in his chest. “Hey, what?” He pulls away from you, curling his hands around your upper arms. “Babe, this hasn’t got anything to do with you.” 

The look in your eyes is less despair than resignation. You seem almost sorry to contradict him. “It’s not like they didn’t invite me. They were trying to be nice, they just didn’t notice that I wasn’t there when they left. What else do you call that?” 

“Not your fault,” he insists, nose scrunching bewilderedly as he shakes his head at you. “That’s what I call it. Listen, I” —he sighs— “I don’t want to sound like I’m advocating for these assholes, but you know how things can get when you’re in a group like that. Everybody’s all excited about whatever you’re all going to do, and if somebody says they’re ready to go, you go. They were probably each thinking you were with someone else. Actually, I can almost guarantee they weren’t thinking at all.” 

Your mouth pulls to one side, dissatisfied but considering. You give a little shrug. “I guess.” But you’re just appeasing him, Steve can tell. 

Fuck, he hates talking about this. The things he does for you, he swears. 

“Look, I was an asshole kid once too,” he says, and he’s aiming for lightness but he can tell by the way your eyes lock on his that you know the significance of him bringing this up. It’s not a legacy he’s proud of. “I could…okay, I’m not happy about it, but I could kind of see myself doing something like that a few years ago. I was an idiot, right? We agree?”

Almost despite yourself, you give a little smile. Steve goes on, encouraged. 

“So I can say, practically from experience, that I wouldn’t have been thinking about who was there and who wasn’t. I would’ve been too caught up in the idea of what we were doing to pay attention. But that just makes me a dick, it doesn’t mean anything about you.” 

You tilt your head, giving him one of those thoughtful, open looks he loves so much. He likes it when you let him see all of you on your face. Makes his boyfriend duties a lot easier. “You’re not a dick,” you say softly. 

“I was,” he says, and it’s not hard to admit when you’re here in front of him, living proof that he’s got to be doing something right these days. He rubs your upper arms roughly. “But you’re not forgettable.” 

You sniff again. Steve is pleased to note that your tear ducts seem to have emptied their reserves enough for the time being. He’s not sure whether that’s because you believe him or because you’re just choosing to let his affection outweigh your coworkers’ callousness for the evening, but either is alright with him. He can love you enough to make up for all of those fuckers. 

“Can I hug you again?” you ask, and he’s quick to oblige you, slotting you back between his arms where you belong. 

“When you go back to work, I bet they’re all going to feel really bad,” Steve grumbles, letting his grip tighten slightly around your ribcage. “But if you want to just avoid all that, the option to come work at Family Video is still open. I know a guy.” 

Your laugh is croaky but real, and the sound of it makes Steve want to squeeze the life out of you for happiness. “I’ll think about it.” 

[shima-draws]

Best Sanlu trope is Luffy openly and enthusiastically declaring his affections for Sanji literally all the time but Sanji just. Doesn't get it. Either due to his own insecurities or the fact that he thinks Luffy's just being overly affectionate he brushes it off and when the rest of the crew are like hey. Can you stop ignoring Luffy's confession you're being really inconsiderate and we can tell he's upset and Sanji's like what? Huh?? What are you talking about?? And then Nami grabs him by the shoulders and she's like Sanji-kun. Look at me. What does Luffy tell you every morning when he sees you and Sanji goes "'Sanji I'm hungry make me breakfast'?" and Nami's like NO AFTER that and Sanji's like "Well then he usually says 'Sanji's the best I love Sanji the most!' And that's normally when I roll my eyes and go 'yeah yeah I know' but that's...just..." and Nami fucking STARES at him and he's like oh. Oh my god. Oh my FUCKING god he was SERIOUS?? THE ENTIRE TIME??? And the entire crew facepalms bc how fucking DENSE is this guy. PLEASE

[dazed--xx]

SKZ reaction: S/O has childhood trauma (Hyung Line)

T/W: mentions of childhood trauma, mentions of bullying, mentions of abandonment, mentions of dead best friend, mentions of neglect, arguments, crying etc…

A/N: I’ll be posting the rest of the members soon then I will be posting the Jeongin angst request next then chapter 2 of one more time then I’ll start posting Cardinal, thank you so much for the support and requests are open

Chan: school bullying

“I JUST DON’T GET YOU!!” He shouted, veins popping out of his neck as he stared at you in anger. Your bottom lip trembled between your teeth as you held onto your weak figure. You couldn’t even figure out what set Chan off, but he was utterly pissed. “Chan what are you talking about? That’s all I’ve been trying to figure out why are you yelling at me?” You exclaim after 30 minutes of his ranting your voice shaky, eyes burning from tears as your boyfriend spewed venom in your direction about how inconsiderate and disrespectful you are. He growls as he pulls a magazine out from the coffee table you had never noticed he had placed there. “Stray Kids Chan GF sends threatening messages to old schoolmates?!” The headline reads. Your eyes widen in shock “C-Chan I can explain this!” You defend yourself. “Explain? How the hell do you expect to explain this?! How can you justify any of this? You called my fan a hopeless despicable piece of crap and that she deserves the shitty life she lives now! How can you sit there and act like that’s not a problem!” He growled, tossing his phone across the room the case shattering as it hit the wall.

A panicked squeal is released from your throat as your hands cover your ears and you drop to the ground. You head shakes rapidly as you stared at your boyfriend. “You’re irresponsible and completely fucking stupid to do something like this! What the hell went through your head?! Did you even think?” He continues, your anger bubbling up in your stomach as he continues to throw harsh insults toward you. “ITS WHAT SHE FUCKING DESERVED! HOW DARE SOMEONE THAT FUCKING TORTURED ME FOR YEARS!!! YEARS OF MY LIFE! SHE DESTROYED MY SELF ESTEEM, SHE HAD ME LOCKED IN A STORAGE CLOSET FOR A WHOLE WEEKEND! SHE CUT MY HAIR AND MY ARMS AND THEN TOLD THE COUNSELORS I WAS SUICIDAL SO ID GET LOCKED IN A PSYCH WARD! SO YEAH, I FUCKING SAID WHAT I ALWAYS WANTED TO SAY WHEN SHE TEXTED ME ASKING ME FOR MONEY! MONEY TALKING ABOUT HOW MUCH I OWE HER MY LIFE BECAUSE SHE WANTED TO KILL ME BUT DIDN’T BECAUSE SHE FIGURED ID BE USEFUL LATER IN LIFE! SO, FUCK YOU BANG CHAN! YOU DIDN’T EVEN ASK ME WHAT HAPPENED! YOU DIDN’T CARE SO YOU CAN GO FUCK YOURSELF ALONG WITH YOUR LITTLE FAN THAT THREATENED ME AGAIN!” You snap, venom spewing toward him as he stood there his mouth hung open in shock as guilt filled his eyes. “Babe…” he called an apology on the tip of his tongue as he made his way across the room “I-I didn’t know—y-you never told me—I’m sorry I’m so fucking sorry” he cried as you held your hand up toward him stopping his march in your direction “Please just…just give me a second I thought out of anyone in this world if anyone would understand anything it would be you but you didn’t even give me a chance to tell you what I did literally last night. And I just I can’t believe you would say those things about me please Chris just—just leave me alone for a bit” you explained tiredly as you made your way to your bedroom leaving your boyfriend in the living room with guilt plastered on his features and sadness in his heart.

Minho:death of best friend

“I-Is it nearby or do we have to keep going?” Minho questions, you could feel his nerves from beside him as you point to a small light a few yards away. “It’s at that light” you smile at him gripping his hand. You felt nervous, you’ve never brought anyone here, to your safe space. You stare at the man beside you, your heart races at how ethereal and beautiful he truly was. You’ve never known anyone so understanding, so deeply determined to get to know you for you. You couldn’t understand him at first but now as you stare at him you can. You can understand the want; the yearning feeling of wanting to know every single thing about someone you love. You’re pulled out of your thoughts as you feel Minho’s arm wrap around your shoulders pulling you into him. “You okay, precious?” He questions, concern laced in his tone as a pout form on his lips. You nod a small smile form on your lips “I’m okay…… just lucky to have you” you confess as your hand wraps around his pulling him toward your destination.

A small giggle is released from Minho’s lips as his legs speed up to keep up with your pace. Finally, you reach the small angel light seated on top of a marble headstone. Your smile grows wider as Minho kneels in-front of the stone placing a page of sheet music, “your song is beautiful” he states “I hope you don’t mind that you don’t mind that I sang it to Y/N, so she’d go out with me. It really spoke to me and explained how I feel about her.” He apologizes softly. “O-Oh! I’m Lee Minho, I forgot to tell you who I am.” You stare at your best friend's grave. “He’d be happy you came honestly I talk about you all the time.” You confess. “Is it inappropriate for me to ask where his family is?” Minho questions. “His mother still comes to see him every day. His dad can’t.” You explain, as you look at your boyfriend “too much guilt, me and his dad were the ones that found him” Minhos eyebrows scrunch together in confusion “H-how did you say he died again?” You shook your head “I didn’t. He committed…you know when we were 14. He had gotten into this huge fight with his dad about wanting to go to a music high school and came to my house crying when his parents showed up to my place he just disappeared, and we found him a week later in our clubhouse in my backyard. I could have sworn I checked there every day until we found him but yeah.”

You feel a strong hand gripping yours as you eye your boyfriend “I’ll make sure she’s okay. She’s going to be okay with me, so I’ll come see you again. And if you want, I’ll make sure your music gets heard. I-I’m an idol I can do that for you, my leader Chan really liked your song. We’ll make sure you’re not forgotten.” He states to your friends' grave as pride swells in your chest. “Thank you for coming with me” you state with a peck to his cheek. “Thanks for letting me” he beams at you.

Changbin: neglect

“I just don’t get why it’s such a big deal?” Changbin questions his tone laced with sadness as a sigh is released from your throat. “I just don’t like my family Bin, they’re not good people and to know that they tracked you down makes me extremely uncomfortable.” Your voice is shaky as the memories come flooding back into your brain. “What happened?” His voice is only barely above a whisper as he wraps his arms around your waist pulling you into his strong figure. “They’re just not good people. Please understand that at least.” You groan your hand rubbing against his forearms. “If you’re not ready to tell me that’s fine babe I just want to make sure they didn’t hurt you. T-they didn’t hurt you right?” He asks almost as if the answer would hurt him. The question left you puzzled. Did they hurt you……… Not physically, they’d have to actually be around for you to be physically hurt; no, you weren’t beaten by your parents. Sure, they rarely were home, but they never laid a hand on you. For a while you and your birth givers were quite…. cohesive. They’d leave enough food for you to make sure you didn’t die, nothing that was hugely sustainable, but you had been able to figure it out. From a young age, you knew how to shop for your own groceries, make money, apply for government assistance and just get by. You were sustainably independent all from the ripe age of 6 years old. Honestly you couldn’t for a moment remember a single conversation with your parents where you weren’t reminded of how unimportant you were in their lives.

You shook your head after some time. “Not physically no” your eyes drift to the ground. You feel your hair being brushed to the side as Changbin placed his chin on your shoulder. “You don’t have to say anything else if you don’t want to….” His grip on you tightens “I love you; you know that right?” You nod in response “I love you too, but I want to tell you. They just didn’t really act like I existed; they made sure I had just enough food to not die but nothing enough to actually help me feel okay. When I turned 6, they just stopped coming home every night and I’d see them once a week maybe…. I don’t know I just—they made sure I knew that I was a mistake I guess and I just kind of figured everything out on my own.” You confess. Your head hung low as your boyfriend rubbed your hair. You could hear his breathing grow heavy as his grip on you tightens “well you’re not a mistake to me, I love you so much and I’m happy that I have you and you have me too, okay? I will never hurt you in anyway” he declares pressing his lips against the back of your head as you nuzzle against his strong frame.

Hyunjin: abandonment

“Come on! Please just talk to me” Hyunjin pleas behind your front door. You sat with your blood boiling; arms crossed over your chest at his nerve; the audacity of this man to have disappeared for 5 months only to try to saunter back into your life like nothing happened. The fact that he couldn’t answer your calls or texts nor the final voicemail you had left for him ending your 2-year relationship said everything about how he feels. You couldn’t for the life of you understand why he finally decided your presence was once again needed. The pounding on the door intensifies as your nerves grow weaker and weaker. With a growl to yourself you force yourself up from your seat in your couch and stomp your way over to your door, forcing it open so hard it almost comes off its hinges. “What?! What could you possibly want?!” You snap, you notice the guilt and sorrow all over his features. His lips formed into a pout as he reached out for you only for you to slap his hands away. “I asked you a question, Hyunjin” your eyes form into a scowl as you cross your arms over your chest as you glare at your ex. “Babe…come on—don’t call me that!” You growl.

The look on Hyunjins face is almost as heartbreaking as his abandonment. “W-what?! Babe please let’s just talk about this! I just heard your voicemail. I’m sorry I’m so sorry please I don’t want to break up!” He pleads upon deaf ears; you scoff in response “you should have thought about that before you disappeared for 5 months Hyunjin. Doing whatever the fuck you were doing!” “I WAS ON TOUR! You figured that out at some point, right?” He argues “yeah… through fucking dispatch I found out you were in America after 3 MONTHS! 3 MONTHS OF NO CLUE WHAT WAS GOING ON! 3 MONTHS OF COMPLETE AND UTTER CONFUSION HYUNJIN!!—Sshhh please don’t be so loud” he cuts you off gesturing you to go into your apartment, his hands firm on your waist shoving you softly back. Your hands find their way to his chest as you shove him out the door. “No! You don’t get to come in here! You don’t get to waltz back into my life after I’ve already became okay with you not being in it anymore! You’re just like my parents; you used me up until I had nothing left to offer you then you just tossed me to the side like I am nothing! Well, I do mean something, and you can’t just abandon me and then show up when it’s convenient for you! I’m tired of shit like that happening and I won’t allow YOU to do that to me!” You growl. Tears stream down Hyunjins face “I didn’t—I didn’t mean to. I-I know it doesn’t mean anything but please know I thought about you the whole time I begged my manager for a new phone so I could call you because I left mine here! Please don’t break up with me I want to be with you!” He cries as he dropped to his knees his arms wrapping around your waist as he buried his face in your stomach “I’d never abandon you! I could never abandon you I love you I love you so much please I didn’t know what your parents did I don’t want to leave. I’m sorry” you stared at the man whose heart lay on the floor. With gritted teeth you sigh “fine come inside but don’t think I’m not still mad at you” he nods quickly hoping to his feet before wrapping his hand around yours pulling you into his large frame. You feel butterflies as the familiar feeling of his soft plush lips connected with yours, putting every ounce of emotion into his kiss. Your cheeks grow a bright scarlet as he pulls away, a small smile creeps on your lips. “Still mad?” He questions jokingly. You scowl at him “don’t push it.”

[siffrin-enthusiast]

hey chat i’ve been having Thoughts about siffrin again.

tws for heavy discussions of unhealthy coping mechanisms, self-harm & suicide in the game in stars and time, spoilers for the entire game act 6 twohats etc etc. if anyone reads this and thinks of any more tws i should add, send them in and i'll add them to the top of this post.

your last warning of heavy discussions VERY unhealthy coping, the urge to and methods of physical and emotional SELF-HARM, and the weight of SUICIDE. i just want to reiterate that IT IS A LOT. use your best judgement before & while reading this post and PLEASE BE CAREFUL.

last last warning. just to be sure.

siffrin self-harms in the loops. we all know this, right? from the increasingly barbaric means they use to loop back, the glass shard they pick up and use, the bigfrin fight where your only craft skill is "(don't attack.) can't hurt them. attack the only person left" and the party visibly reacts to you using it. it's not exactly subtle.

it makes sense that the pretty popular headcanon is that siffrin doesn't drop the habit of self-harming after coming out of the loops. i agree with that, but i also think that it's not done in the way most people are thinking! let me explain.

siffrin's self-harming behavior in the loops boils down to three major (and very intertwined) truths about their situation.

siffrin does not recognize the value in his life. this has been a thing since before sif joined the party. they happened to cross paths and stepped up to defeat a "particularly strong Sadness" (and for reference, fully leveled storming the house Mirabelle gets nervous about fighting a Sadness. they will freeze you in time. they ripped out siffrin's eye in one blow. they are DANGEROUS.) and siffrin comes along to save this country because "there's nothing else for you to do". and then the loops start. siffrin realizes he can die and. well. holy fuck. we've all played the game. siffrin is literally killing himself, killing himself, for convenience because it's annoying to walk to a tear. and it's his idea!! if you do it enough times, the death text changes from (You killed yourself.) to (You saved yourself some time.) loop has a line about advising siffrin against suicide because they'll see themself as "disposable" and...yeah. yeah. they do.

siffrin will not let physical or emotional harm come to the other members of their party. again, this is something seen before the loops, when siffrin loses his eye defending bonnie from a sadness, and how they still cringe over being 'inconsiderate' to mira months ago during their travels across vaugarde. when the party panics after (just attack), siffrin loops. when the party dies in loop's hangout, siffrin loops. when bonnie is taken by the king, siffrin loops. when isa is taken aback by bad touch, siffrin loops. when odile realizes they're in a time loop in kinda sus, siffrin loops. when the party watches siffrin hurt himself in the bigfrin fight, siffrin attempts to loop. good god, there's a scene where if you try and use the dagger on your family members siffrin blames his intrusive thoughts and stabs themself. because of their intrusive thoughts. his dreams are about the fear of hurting their friends. their worst, most traumatizing moments are about other people getting hurt.

siffrin's actions in the loops are reversible. if something is done, it can be undone. it can be scripted around. their party will not know unless siffrin chooses to tell them. none of their actions have consequences. sif delights in this (until realizing beating the king doesn't free him from the loop). fuck up bonnie's friendquest? loop! miss a key? loop! say the wrong thing? loop! everyone dies horribly? loop! loop! loop!

and after the loops? let's take a moment to reevaluate siffrin's situation:

siffrin does not recognize the value of his life. still.

siffrin will not let physical or emotional harm come to the other members of their party. still.

siffrin's actions are no longer reversible. there is no time loop. what happens now happens--no second chances, no undo button. they are permanent. especially now that they've seen sif try to loop, the smell of burnt sugar that precedes it, and odile figured out how to shut it down. all of their actions have consequences.

immediately after the bigfrin fight, mira asks where sif is going and bonnie LITERALLY says "Yeah, you're stupid if you think we're leaving you to do whatever you want right now." and the party double-checks that siffrin is going to see loop before letting them run off. and then twohats happens. when siffrin gets back, isa comments "We were getting worried." in siffrin's small absence (despite knowing exactly where siffrin was, talking to loop, who the party has a favorable opinion of) and then mira calls them out directly for looking sad.

the party is watching siffrin like fucking hawks.

i fully believe that siffrin would feel the urge to self-harm. i fully believe that the party knows this too. and i think siffrin would at least suspect that the party is going to be looking very, very closely for signs of more physical self-harm.

there's a phenomenon i don't have a name for but that i've seen repeated where someone trying to recover from using an unhealthy coping mechanism can slip into using a different unhealthy coping mechanism instead. in school, perfectionism can lead to avoidance. if a person shuts down for too long, they might start acting out or doing other attention-seeking behaviors as a cry for help. and after we experience continuous trauma, a lot of people will seek out or be more attached to unhealthy relationships (of any time) and find comfort & stability in the abuse endured. obviously this isn't the case every time, and i don't even know if it's a Thing i actually read about in psychology classes or just a pattern i've been noticing! i'm no professional.

for siffrin, actions and their consequences are now permanent. so i really, really don't think he's going to self-harm unless they're 100% sure they're going to get away with it (and i doubt the opportunity will arise for months). because if the party finds out they self-harm, that breaks sif's rule of not letting physical/emotional harm come to the party. they're going to be devastated. we already saw how they acted when siffrin did it in front of them when he was using the dagger to loop, the bigfrin fight. when dagger looping, siffrin was more shaken up about watching their family watch siffrin die than the literally killing himself part. they do it in front of their party and in the bigfrin fight because he thinks he can loop back. but that is no longer siffrin's reality. the party will be devastated if siffrin hurts himself and siffrin cannot undo that hurt.

("Yeah, you're stupid if you think we're leaving you to do whatever you want right now.")

i think that since physical self-harm is banned for siffrin, he's going to subconsciously shift to emotional or at least more subtle self-harm. keeping that unhealthy emotional distance. getting angry and frustrated and bitter. overly helpful. denial and minimizing and suppressing the loops. alcoholism. dissociating from their feelings. keeping their expectations so, so soul-crushingly low. passivity. whatever was left of his self-esteem is going through a woodchipper. self-sabotage his relationships. impulsive behavior. throwing themself into the party's problems to forget his own.

little things, subtle unconscious displays of siffrin's utter loathing of himself that he thinks on some level he can get away with. that their party won't notice, won't be hurt by. there won't be consequences! no one will be hurt (except siffrin, but as previously discussed, siffrin does not value themself). the party is going to be watching; their refusal to let siffrin go to dormont alone says as much. and siffrin is not going to start opening up and becoming the coping mechanisms master; their non-mention of the fight with loop (only saying "i said thanks to loop" instead of "loop is me and also tried to kill me") says as much. there's...a long road ahead, that much is clear.

i think siffrin will eventually get better. isafrin only happened because siffrin reached out for isabeau instead of waiting on isa to do it, which i'm interpreting as a very positive sign of sif learning he has to reach out for help to receive it. it's going to be messy. it's going to take a while. but the time will pass anyways. siffrin will eventually get better.

those are just my thoughts as a non-professional. i'd love to hear other people's thinking about siffrin. if you need it, here's tumblrs official mental health resources post with resources sorted by different countries. stay safe and be well, everyone :)

[smehur]

More Harry/Draco fics I loved

I'm reading so much fic, I don't have time to read the actual books! And my Read Later list still keeps growing! Thank you, Drarry Tumblr, for feeding me so well. Here's a little something in return.

In the order of reading them:

Bitter Honey, Green Night by Faith Wood

An inn, an Auror, a criminal, a mystery.

I loved this story for the seduction, and the tension, and one of the most exquisite, most intimate sex scenes I've ever encountered. Even weeks after reading, it still lingers in my mind and I can envision it with almost painful clarity. I admit I wished the story went on: although the main conflict got a satisfying resolution, there could've been a bit more closure (read: another sex scene). Not a critique, mind you--if I were in the author's shoes, I'd have probably stopped there too--just the longings of an insatiable fan.

i was having visions of sugared pastry (cooked up in clarified butter) by infectiousdisease, solifuge

Draco Malfoy doesn't remember a time before his eating disorder. Not that he'd call it that.

This one gutted me in all the right ways. Draco with an eating disorder passed on from Narcissa clicked for me with frightening ease. It just rings so true? The unflinching depictions of his mental and physical illness, of his relations with his dysfunctional family and the bullying he inflicted on others made my stomach clench--and I loved it. I also loved how the horrors of the war were communicated as subtext, reflected in Draco's war against himself, rather than explicitly, to great effect. I loved the soft things too: Draco's relationship with Harry developing between the lines, the cathartic trial scene and the well-earned beginnings of recovery, all written in brisk, efficient prose that cuts to the marrow. An absolute gem of a fic.

Tea and No Sympathy by who_la_hoop

It's Potter's fault, of course, that Draco finds himself trapped in the same twenty-four-hour period, repeating itself over and over again. It's been nearly a year since the unpleasant business at Hogwarts, and Draco's getting on with his life quite nicely, thank you, until Harry sodding Potter steps in and ruins it all, just like always. At first, though, the time loop seems liberating. For the first time in his life, he can do anything, say anything, be anything, without consequence. But the more Draco repeats the day, the more he realises the uncomfortable truth: he's falling head over heels for the speccy git. And suddenly, the time loop feels like a trap. For how can he ever get Harry to love him back when time is, quite literally, against him?

Easily one of the loveliest stories I've read in this fandom so far. Draco is such an unmitigated darling; I rooted for him deeply, while fearing at the same time that he'd fuck things up irreparably, lol. And Harry, dear, pure, clueless Harry, with his long-time crush that's teased but never fully elaborated. There's also a little owl, heart-warming moments between Draco and his parents, his unrelenting focus on clothes and a scene where he goes jogging in a Muggle park wearing robes (and little else).

All that said, the end left me feeling weirdly cheated. (Spoiler alert!) Harry says it himself: it's not fair that Draco had their first kiss without him. Was Draco's exploration of the timeloop selfish, or just inconsiderate, or entirely justified? What would Harry have done in his shoes? Not gonna lie: I kept mulling over this for days.

Mortal Frame by tackytiger

Draco’s on a mission, and this time it's personal. But it's not easy to track down something that no one wants to talk about, especially when Harry Potter keeps popping up everywhere Draco goes. Though at least he’s on Draco’s side this time, and if he happens to be useful, and kind, and great in bed—well, Draco’s not exactly complaining. The story of three pubs, one Horcrux, four overpriced sandwiches, and two damaged men just trying to make sure that Bellatrix Lestrange stays dead.

Oh, this was such a treat. Mysterious, atmospheric and reticent in just the perfect measure, it had me wide-eyed and heart-aching and mouth-watering. Most of my reading is about Harry and Draco getting together, and I'm always surprised when stories where they're already a couple (of one sort or another) manage to evoke in me such deep longing. If you haven't already, go read this now.

À Bon Chat by oknowkiss

Draco Malfoy didn’t intend to lead a life of crime after the war. It’s just that being good had turned out so incomprehensibly boring. Now he's thirty-five, a fully redeemed member of society, the darling of the wizarding social pages, and a newly minted consultant for Gawain Robards' Investigative Research division. In his spare time, he enjoys good whisky, casual sex, and moonlighting as an art thief. His biggest score yet is fast approaching and he's got everything planned down to the minute. Everything, that is, until the unexpected appearance of a newly-divorced Harry Potter. Now that Potter's in the picture, Draco's no longer certain if he's the pursuer or the prize.

Omg, this fic. I don't even know where to start with the praise. It is so well-written, and so well-researched, and it offers such insight, not only into our beloved characters, but into human nature in general. I still can't decide whether I entirely bought the ending or not. But that didn't lessen my enjoyment of the story; it even contributed to it by making me engage with it on a deeper level. I remain astonished and humbled.

Tagging the authors I managed to find on here: @faith2wood, @oknowkiss, @tackytigerfic. Thank you for enriching my life! 💚

[cheeseanonioncrisps]

Boiling hot take, but we're never going to be able to tackle the problem of bullying, especially in schools but also in general, unless we address the fact that some people, especially some kids, are just… not that great to be around.

And that's not always their fault.

Like, as an autistic adult, when I look back on the ways I was treated as a kid, on the one hand I think "fuck that was shitty to live through", but on the other hand, I kinda get it?

I was loud and regularly called out in class or interrupted people when they were talking.

I had a narrow range of interests that I was very interested in, and wasn't great at recognising when the person I was discussing them with wanted to talk about something else.

I couldn't judge my tone of voice and so things I said often came across as insulting when I didn't mean them to.

I was highly opinionated and argumentative.

I would sometimes lash out at people physically (when provoked).

I growled and hissed at people like a cat when I wanted them to go away, because I didn't know how to communicate that in human terms.

I used to hit and bite myself when I felt frustrated, and a couple of times threatened to hurt myself during stressful social interactions.

I had a loose grasp of personal hygiene.

Was any of this a justifiable excuse for bullying me? No. I was a kid, struggling with a brain that was structured very differently to everyone else's. I didn't even know what I was doing wrong a lot of the time. I had a disability.

But was this a justifiable excuse for not wanting to hang out with me? Fuck yeah.

Like, I would have liked it better if I'd been able to have close friends in primary school (without the teachers having to literally set up a structured group of people who were willing to befriend me, complete with weekly meetings where we discussed our social issues with an adult mediator present)? Yeah. That would have been great.

But I was also weird and unpredictable and gross and inconsiderate, and I wouldn't have wanted to hang out with me either. The other kids didn't owe me their friendship. (Even though, again, none of those things were my fault.) But that doesn't mean I deserved mistreatment.

Basically, I think there would be less bullying if we had more preschool books and Very Special Episodes about how to handle interacting with people who are essentially harmless, but who you don't really want to be friends with all the same.

Get rid of the dichotomy in kids media where everyone is either deliberately and purposefully being unpleasant because they can, OR Just Like You with no annoying or unpleasant traits whatsoever.

Sometimes people just are Annoying. It sucks. But part of living in a society is learning to walk away from those people and leave them be, rather than treating their existence as a personal attack.